


Steps to Something Good

by msraven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Background Relationships, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Dubious Science, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Mentions of past abuse, Not A Fix-It, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-07 11:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14670363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: You shouldn’t make me out to be a hero.I call ‘em like I see ‘em.I'm not a—You ARE. Hydra took everything from you for decades. Your life, your identity, your free will. DON'T let them take this from you too.Bucky and Clint spend time together in a Wakandan village, remember who they are, and learn about each other along the way.





	1. Enter the White Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to my beta, kultiras. This probably wouldn't have gotten written without your encouragement and may not have made sense without your guidance.

"They thought all hope was lost as another swarm of aliens came up over the hill. Captain America turned to the battered Avengers around him and they all slowly nodded, acknowledging that they were with him to the end. Then, as the swarm was just about on them, there was a blur of movement to their left and, with a loud battle cry, the blur ran headlong into the throng of aliens. It was…"

"The White Wolf!" the kids cried out on cue and Barton grinned while his eyes danced with amusement. Bucky was certain Barton knew he was there, but he ignored Bucky's presence in a dark corner of the hut and continued on with his story.

"With a swing of his metal arm and the rapid fire of his gun, the White Wolf cut through the aliens in his path. Behind him, the whole of Wakanda’s army, led by their king and with the Avengers among them, charged in to join the battle. The fight was long and bloody, but they had turned the tide against the aliens and victory was theirs. Earth was safe again."

The gathered children clapped and quickly called out for more stories. 

"Tell the one where the White Wolf and Captain America fight the Iron menace!"

"No! I want to hear more about the war and his pack of commandos!"

"The one with the giant tank!"

Barton held up his hands and it was token of the respect he’d earned in the village that the children quieted quickly. 

"It’s near dinner time. Let’s save the stories for tomorrow. _After_ you complete your chores."

There was a chorus of disappointed groans, but the kids dutifully stood and left the hut after giving their storyteller quick hugs goodbye. 

"Ugh. I am way too old to crouch like that," Barton complained and stretched his back, still ignoring the weighted silence in the room. 

"So the name came from you?" Bucky finally asked and Barton turned toward him with a smirk. 

"Nice, huh? Black Panther, White Wolf. Dark, light. Big cat, puppy do...og." Barton grinned unrepentantly at Bucky's scowl. "It’s catchy. Come on, admit you like it."

Bucky growled in response, which only succeeded in making Barton’s grin widen. 

"See, you’re already embracing it!" Barton chuckled as he started to move past Bucky. 

"You shouldn’t make me out to be a hero," Bucky protested. The name itself hadn’t bothered him, but he didn’t think he deserved the awe in which it was said by the children. Not after everything he’d done. 

The grin slid off Barton’s face as he stopped in the doorway, eyes going dark with an emotion Bucky couldn't name. "I call ‘em like I see ‘em."

"I'm not a—"

"You _are_ ," Barton cut in through a jaw clenched in what Bucky realized was anger. "Hydra took everything from you for decades. Your life, your identity, your free will. _Don't_ let them take this from you too."

It took a moment for Bucky to recover from his surprise before he could move to follow Barton—to say thank you or continue arguing his point, he wasn't sure—only to be stopped in his tracks by Wanda standing just outside the door. He caught himself from flinching back at her sudden appearance, widened his stance to keep from stumbling, and tried his best not to look like he'd been running after Barton. 

Wanda made no move to get out of Bucky's way and gave him a knowing smile after several seconds passed, as if she sensed his impatience.

"Clint has an annoying habit of not letting us wallow in our own bullshit," she finally said. 

Bucky frowned in confusion, trying to shake a vague suspicion that he was being scolded by a younger sibling. 

"He likes to think we believe his, though," she continued. "He says he owes me a debt and that Cap has earned his loyalty."

"Your point?"

"Clint cares deeper than most, more deeply than most of us deserve. I hate to see him disappointed."

Bucky suddenly wished he had both arms to cross defensively. He didn't understand how anything he could do would disappoint Barton. Bucky barely knew him aside from Steve's assertion that the guy was his first call when things when to shit. The only thing Bucky could add to that knowledge was that Barton and Wanda had arrived in the village a few weeks before they'd woken Bucky and, in that short time, had somehow managed to endear himself to the entire village. 

Before Bucky could come up with any sort of response to Wanda, a voice rang out and Shuri came around the corner from where they were standing.

"Wanda!"

"Shuri," Wanda greeted warmly. "I wasn't expecting you today."

Many of the Wakandans were still wary of Wanda and her power, but it was clear that Shuri held no such reservations as the two friends embraced.

"I finished the modifications to the Talon that Clint suggested and was hoping he'd be willing to come flying with me."

"He's with Okoye. We're invited to dinner," Wanda replied and turned toward Bucky to include him in the invitation. 

Bucky nodded his acceptance at Wanda before greeting Shuri with a smile and an arm crossed in front of his chest. Shuri returned the Wakandan greeting with both arms and a wider smile. 

"Hello Bucky. I hope you are still doing well?" Shuri asked kindly.

"I'm good. Thank you."

They made the short walk to Okoye's hut and toward the back where stairs led them down to a larger, more modernized area hidden below ground. In the dining room, they found Okoye and Barton having a hushed conversation beside the table. Okoye's back was turned toward them, blocking most of Barton from view, but Bucky could still see the supportive hand at her elbow and the smile of reassurance on Barton's face. 

Barton gave Okoye's elbow a quick squeeze before letting go and turned toward the door, his smile brightening when he saw Shuri. They each crossed their arms and bowed in greeting before Barton opened his arms and Shuri stepped into them for a quick hug.

"Hello, little one," Barton said.

"Hello, old man," Shuri responded with a grin. "I brought the Talon for you to fly."

"Does the king know you're here?" Okoye asked with a frown. "Their being in this village was meant to keep them out of sight. Flying here every two days is bound to attract attention."

Shuri waved away Okoye's concern with a shrug. "I used stealth mode. Am I invited to dinner?"

Okoye sighed in exasperation, but turned to grab another place setting from the kitchen. Bucky ended up seated between Barton and Okoye, with Shuri and Wanda across the table. Shuri spent most of dinner giving Okoye the latest updates and gossip from the palace. Bucky hadn't been awake long enough to spend much time with Okoye, so he had to assume there was some other reason for the general to be in the village, aside from guarding the outsiders who weren't technically even there. 

As soon as dinner was finished, Shuri jumped up excitedly. "Time to fly and for you to be amazed at my genius!"

Barton smiled fondly and stood, turning to Okoye with a small bow. "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious, as always." Okoye gave him a small smile in return and then Barton turned to Wanda. "I'm sure _you_ don't want to come flying with us."

"No, thank you," Wanda replied. "Once was more than enough."

Shuri laughed and leaned over to give Wanda a one-armed hug as Barton turned to Bucky. "How about you, Barnes? Care to come flying with us?"

The words were friendly and Bucky was about to politely decline, when he looked up at the teasing challenge in Barton's eyes. He quickly weighed Wanda's adamant refusal, Okoye's carefully blank expression, and Shuri's mischievous grin against the unspoken challenge. 

"Sure, why not? I'll come flying with you." Bucky wasn't Steve Rogers' best friend for nothing.

Instead of surprise, Barton's face split into a wide, happy smile, as if Bucky's answer was what he'd been hoping for. 

"Let's go!" Shuri whooped in excitement and jogged up the stairs.

Clint motioned him to go first, so Bucky stood and followed Shuri up and out of the hut. They walked to a clearing just outside of the small village, where Shuri tapped one of the beads on her wrist. A few yards in front of them, the air shimmered before resolving into a shape that Bucky assumed must be the Talon. He couldn't hold back a small gasp of appreciation once it was fully revealed. The Talon was about the size of a quinjet, but sleeker—all smooth lines and black angles. It looked both intimidatingly sinister and utterly beautiful at the same time.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Clint asked as he stepped up next to Bucky. "Don't ever tell her I said so, but it reminds me a bit of Natasha."

Bucky paused, blinked, and looked at the Talon again. He didn't know too much about the spy—Clint's best friend, from what Steve had told him—but from what he'd seen…

"Yeah, I can see what you mean."

Clint snorted in amusement and bumped Bucky's right shoulder with his own. "Come on, let me show you how she soars."

~^~

About a week later, Bucky moved from the small hut he had woken in, to the one Wanda and Clint had been sharing. It, like Okoye's hut, had a hidden area underground that housed two bedrooms with attached baths, a large living room, kitchen, and dining room. Wanda hadn’t explained why she was leaving when she’d said her goodbyes the day before and Bucky hadn’t been comfortable enough with her to ask.

"Wanda went to see Vision," Clint explained without prompting as Bucky watched him assemble a lasagna for dinner. 

"Isn't that risky with the Accords still law?" 

Clint shrugged, tension clear in the hunch of his shoulders.

"You didn't want her to go."

Clint shrugged again and took his time putting the lasagna in the oven before turning back to Bucky with a wry smile.

"It wasn't what _I_ wanted that was important," Clint finally responded. "Wanda is capable of making her own decisions. I won't take that away from her."

"But you're worried."

"I'm worried." Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "She's not in danger, not with Vision, and Stark promised—"

"You've been talking to Stark?!"

Bucky stood and knocked over the stool he'd been perched on. He tensed, ready to bolt, until his brain caught up with the instinct to flee and he realized he didn't know where he'd go. Part of the reasoning of where they were was that the village was difficult to access unless you had an aircraft and already knew where to go. 

Clint didn't react to Bucky's sudden movement, just waited patiently for Bucky to relax, right the stool, and sit back down. "Shuri set up a secure connection that even Stark can't trace. Vision asked to see Wanda and she agreed. They're meeting in Paris or Venice or somewhere else equally romantic. I didn't ask."

"Please tell me that Shuri didn't take her in the Talon."

Clint laughed and the remaining tension in both their shoulders faded as Bucky grinned back automatically. 

The flight on the Talon had been exhilarating and one of the newer memories that Bucky would keep with him as a reason to be glad that he'd survived into the future. Clint had flown her like an eagle riding wind currents—light touches on the controls you barely felt as he maneuvered flawlessly through narrow canyons and followed the winding river. In counterpoint, Shuri flew the Talon like a bat out of hell—with all of the skill and no attempt at nuance. Clint had laughed then too, supremely confident in both the engineer and pilot of the craft. Bucky had strapped himself in tight and put his faith in Clint's confidence until they were safely back on the ground.

"Okoye flew her out," Clint was saying now. "She'll make sure nothing seems wrong before leaving Wanda on her own."

"Can I ask a question?"

Clint looked like he was holding back a smile, but nodded at Bucky's polite question and leaned back against the counter.

"Has Okoye been assigned to guard us? Shuri mentioned she was the general of the Dora Milaje. Isn't that a bit conspicuous for her not to be at the king's side?"

"You get that we're not being held here, right? That we can come and go as we like?" Clint waited for Bucky to nod before he continued. "I don't have a lot of the details, but something bad happened just after T'Challa's coronation. Nearly a civil war, bad." Bucky winced, unable to keep himself from thinking about the fight at the airport. "It got personal for Okoye and they used it as an excuse for why she needed time away. The king wanted to make sure we were protected in case there were any lingering bad feelings toward Wanda… and you, I suppose."

"We owe the king a lot."

"There are good and bad ways to take ownership of your actions. I think T'Challa is doing his best to stay on the right side of that line. I’m not one to argue against his good will."

They slipped into a comfortable silence—each of them lost in their own thoughts—as the kitchen slowly filled with the wonderful smell of lasagna. Bucky found his thoughts wandering away from righting his own wrongs, to old memories of the Italian delis scattered around the neighborhood in Brooklyn. It didn't register that his stomach was growling until Clint slid a plate full of salami, cheese, and crackers across the island toward him.

"We've still got some time before the lasagna's ready," Clint offered with a small smile. "Figured you'd need a snack if your metabolism is anywhere close to Steve's."

"Thanks. I thought Wanda did all the cooking?" She'd made a tasty chicken paprikash the other night and had worked with Okoye on what Bucky had been told was a traditional Wakandan pork dish earlier in the week. Clint typically ended up washing dishes.

"I make do. Having kids means you can't always order takeout."

The last bite of salami was suddenly more difficult for Bucky to swallow. "I'm sorry. If I'm the reason you're here and not with them."

"Nah, don't blame yourself for that," Clint replied with an emphatic shake of his head. "I did perfectly well ruining that on my own."

"You saying that coming to help Stevie didn't put you here?"

"What I'm saying is that I was already sleeping in the barn when he called." Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "When Nat first called, I told her I was still retired because I didn't want her to know. I think she always wanted it more than I did—the family she thought she'd never get." 

Clint sat on a stool across from Bucky and snagged a piece of cheese off the plate before continuing. "I love my wife and my kids. I don't think that will ever change, but I ain't cut out for being idle. Been on the move since I was seven and never figured out how to stop. Laura and I kept trying, kept hoping for something to change. New York didn't do it and Sokovia didn't either. Took a while for me to admit that nothing would and that my family deserved more than what I could give. I'd been watching the news, debating on whether I fly out to Germany on my own or call Fury first, when Cap got a hold of me. Choice was easy."

"You had to fight your best friend."

Clint shrugged, unconcerned. "Wasn't the first time and probably won't be the last. It's cool. Real friendships survive that kind of thing."

Bucky paused and then nodded at Clint's knowing look. They snacked in silence for another few moments and then Clint leaned forward on his elbows.

"Can I ask _you_ a question now? Cuz I've always been curious and am hoping you got back enough of your old memories to answer."

"Uh, sure," Bucky agreed, expecting a question about Steve.

"Did Morita really lose a bet to you once and had to lick the inside of Doogan's hat?"

Bucky blinked, an image of Morita's face twisted in disgust popping to the front of his mind. The bark of laughter that escaped his throat was as startling as the unexpected memory.

"So it's true?" Clint grinned as Bucky got his laughter under control and wiped tears from the corner of his eyes.

"Yeah. Idiot bet me that I couldn't rile Steve up enough to take a swing at me. How the hell do you know so much about the war?" Bucky had heard Clint tell the village kids several stories about the Howling Commandos—recognized that he'd stopped telling stories about the White Wolf—and had never needed to correct him on the facts. 

"My mom was a history teacher before she met my dad. All the stories she told were about you guys."

Bucky smiled. "I'm picturing a little you running around with a cardboard shield pretending to be Captain America."

"Nah, that was Barney, my brother," Clint corrected, then surprised Bucky by blushing. "I, ah… I always wanted to play you."

" _Me_?"

"The comics—you know about those, right?" Clint asked and Bucky nodded that he did. "The comics made you out to be a kid, a sidekick. Mom's books said you were Cap's best friend, a sniper, and that you watched his back. I was a scrawny kid from middle-of-nowhere Iowa who was halfway deaf cuz my dad liked to get drunk and take it out on his family. Cap seemed too big a stretch, but I figured I could be the friend that watched his back."

Bucky stayed quiet, unsure how to process all the new information. His chest ached for the little Clint he could picture in his head.

"So yeah," Clint said, voice purposefully light. "Fast forward a few decades I definitely don't want to talk about and I get led into this guy's office at SHIELD. I was still expecting them to lock me in a cell, but this guy, Phil, was the biggest Cap fan you'll ever meet. He had a bunch of collectibles on the shelves behind his desk and one was your old sniper sight. I was pretty excited to see it, so Phil explained how SHIELD had started with the SSR. He told me that he and Nick believed I had it in me to live up to the example you'd set. Made me believe it too. Phil gave me the sight as a gift when I made full agent status."

"Wow…" Bucky paused, taking a few moments to let everything that Clint had told him sink in. "That's…"

"A lot to lay on a guy, sorry. Don't, uh, let it get weird, okay? I mean, it was weird enough spending time with Steve. Kinda takes the shine out of the hero worship when you watch the guy burn everything except water."

"I'm pretty sure I remember him doing that once when we were growing up." 

Clint laughed a little and, just like that, the awkwardness was broken. It was mind boggling to know Bucky had inspired someone like Clint, but at least it didn’t seem like he was going to try and hold him up on some pedestal. Bucky forced himself not dwell on what he’d become since he was Sergeant Barnes. He liked hearing Clint’s laugh. 

"You know what _was_ super amazing?" Clint was saying. "Meeting Peggy Carter. She was…just…oh boy. Talk about living up to expectations. I'm pretty sure I tripped over my tongue just trying to say hello."

"She had that effect on people," Bucky commiserated. "This one time, Dum Dum…"

~^~

Bucky woke the next morning feeling… more than good. He was closer to happiness than he remembered being in a long time. Whatever Shuri had done with his head, he’d stopped having nightmares filled with confusing memories. The memories were still there, but they were clearer somehow—things he could wade through and come to terms with on his own instead of being attacked by them in his sleep.

Determined to maintain his lighter mood, Bucky quickly showered and dressed, only fumbling slightly with his clothing, then walked out to the kitchen for breakfast. He and Clint had spent the rest of the night telling each stories of the Commandos and the Avengers until their sides were aching with laughter and their bellies full of lasagna. Despite his earlier confession about his childhood, Clint somehow made Bucky's past just his past, not something he’d tainted or had to live up to. It didn’t really make sense if he thought about it too hard, but Bucky had a feeling that most things weren’t supposed to make sense with Clint. 

When he made it out to the kitchen, Bucky was disappointed to find that Clint had already had his own breakfast and left the hut. There was a pot of coffee, bagels, and a note left behind for Bucky to check the refrigerator. Inside, Bucky found everything he’d need to make a Nova lox bagel, the onions and tomatoes already sliced and in small plastic containers. The warm feeling he’d woken with spread and made Bucky’s smile widen as he pulled the ingredients out of the refrigerator. 

He ate three loaded bagels, using his enhanced metabolism to justify the excess, and cleaned the kitchen before heading up and outside. Bucky wandered around the village, greeting a few people he passed and didn’t realize he was looking for something until it found him. 

"Barnes, hey!" Clint called from behind him and Bucky spun around, an unconscious smile already on his face. "Exactly who I was looking for." 

Clint didn’t wait for Bucky to respond, just motioned for him to follow and then turned back in the direction he’d come. 

"You’re right-hand dominant, aren't you?" Clint asked when Bucky fell into step beside him. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow, wondering if Clint was joking, but he looked completely serious. 

"Yeah," Bucky responded after a beat, "back when I had two—"

"Great! This should work out."

"What should?" Bucky asked, but Clint only kept walking until they turned a corner and Bucky could see a line of young Wakandans lined up in front of targets, spears in their hands and waiting at their feet.

Another group further down the line were already throwing their spears at the targets, but the younger Wakandans closest to Bucky and Clint were clearly waiting for them. Bucky noted that none of them seemed surprised to see Bucky as they walked closer.

"So," Clint explained as he picked up one of the spears on the ground, "they're all right-handed and I'm not, so I thought this would work better with you."

Clint held out the spear and Bucky tentatively reached out to take it. "You want me to show them how to throw?"

"Yeah," Cint nodded, then pulled the spear back before Bucky could grasp it. "You _do_ know how to properly throw a spear?"

Bucky glowered—the Winter Soldier had been trained to be proficient in all weaponry—and Clint smirked before handing the spear over. He tossed the spear in his hand a few times, to test its weight and balance, before adjusting his grip and getting into the right throwing stance.

"Don't forget to compensate for—"

This time, Bucky shot Clint a glare and he wisely snapped his mouth shut. Clint was clearly biting the inside of his lip to keep his grin from emerging, but motioned for Bucky to continue.

Bucky shook out his shoulders to loosen them and get a feel for his now-missing appendage, re-adjusted his grip, threw, and bit back a curse. He'd overcompensated for his lost arm and the spear sailed just past the edge of the target to embed itself in the dirt. Clint didn't say anything, only held out a second spear with his face carefully blank.

The second spear hit the target, to the right of center, and Bucky wordlessly held his hand out for another spear that Clint immediately handed over. The third spear hit dead center. He nodded to himself and turned to gloat a bit, but Clint had already moved his attention to the Wakandans, encouraging them to give it their own tries before walking down to the older group.

Bucky watched Clint walk away in bemusement until the motion of the young Wakandan standing next to him caught his attention. Her grip wasn't quite right and Bucky stepped forward after they'd thrown to suggest a change. She smiled her thanks at Bucky when her next throw showed improvement, gripped the next spear, and waited for Bucky to nod before throwing again. Pleased that he was able to help, Bucky moved on to scrutinize the next few in line. He made a few more corrections before Clint called out loudly from the middle of the group.

"Clear!"

Everyone around Bucky immediately stopped, the few holding spears carefully putting them back on the ground, and then raised an arm up high. 

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

Responding cries echoed down the line until they all hand a hand raised and were looking around at each other. The Wakandan Bucky had been helping nudged him with his unraised elbow, making Bucky realize that everyone around him were looking at him expectantly. 

"Clear," offered the girl on Bucky's other side and raised her arm a little higher.

"Um. Clear," Bucky said and raised his arm. 

"Clear!" They all called out in unison and all the arms dropped. Bucky followed automatically.

"Retrieve!" Clint yelled and the Wakandans took off running into the field to grab their spears. 

Bucky glanced at Clint, who raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. Bucky rolled his eyes in response, but dutifully ran out to retrieve the three spears he had thrown. As each person made it back to the firing line, they laid their spears on the ground, raised an arm, and once again called out, "Clear!" When everyone was off the field and accounted for, Clint called out a final, "Fire away!" The hands dropped and they all resumed their practice. It was an impressive and clear demonstration that they'd been training with Clint for some time.

"Like this?" 

Bucky refocused and checked the Wakandan's grip on her spear before nodding.

"I am Dore," she offered shyly and Bucky smiled back.

"I'm Bucky."


	2. Learning Curve

Bucky and Clint settled into a nice routine, with Bucky taking over training for the younger, less experienced Wakandans while Clint continued to work with the older ones. Different families took turns providing a small lunch during training and, while they were often invited to share dinner with the Wakandans, they more typically had the evening to themselves with Clint doing the cooking.

After spending all day with a large group, Bucky expected himself to need time alone in his room to decompress. Much to his surprise, Bucky gravitated to the stool at the kitchen island every night and found that watching Clint go through the motions of cooking was more relaxing than the thought of sitting alone. Sometimes, they would spend the hours in comfortable silence. More often, Bucky would start a conversation about something that had occurred to him earlier in the day—anything from a random thought, to a resurfaced memory, or a question about changes since the forties. Clint would always listen carefully and provide needed insight, but Bucky's favorite nights were when something he came up with would get a laugh out of Clint, even if it sometimes led to merciless teasing for a few days after.

Bucky didn't remember the last time he'd made a new friend. There were a few folks from the old neighborhood that Bucky could barely recall and he'd learned early on in the army to avoid getting too close to anyone. The Commandos were a special case and Steve was really a brother, so Clint was quickly earning a special spot on Bucky's short list of new acquaintances. Because of this, what Bucky saw the next afternoon didn't upset him as much as it may have a few weeks earlier. 

It was getting late enough that they would normally be thinking of stopping for the day, which was why Bucky looked across to where Clint had been with a smaller group. He watched as Clint made a thrusting motion with the spear in his hands before he turned and threw the spear at a target—with his right arm. When Clint caught Bucky glaring at him, he looked over at the spear in the center of the target, back at Bucky, and grinned widely. He then gave the signal for the others that training was complete for the day and waited patiently for Bucky to stride over.

"You lied," Bucky accused.

"Did not."

"You can throw with your right arm just fine."

"Of course I can. I've trained to be ambidextrous."

"You—"

Clint held up a finger before Bucky could continue. "I never said I couldn't throw with my right arm, only that I'm left-dominant, which I am. Plus you, being younger and all super-soldiery, are less likely to throw out your back after spending all day demonstrating proper throwing technique." 

"Like you know proper technique," Bucky fired back and glared harder because Clint was right. He hadn't really lied and he hadn't ever pushed for Bucky to come along on the days that followed. Bucky had chosen to help with the training. It didn't mean that Buck stopped feeling like he had been tricked, even if he'd admit now that it was for his own good. 

Clint seemed to sense the positive direction Bucky's train of thought was taking and his grin widened into a cocky smirk. 

"You're a jerk, you know that?" Bucky huffed, unable to force his voice out of the fond exasperation it naturally slid into when he was around Clint.

"He claims it's part of his charm," another voice answered behind Bucky.

"Okoye," Clint greeted warmly with a bow that Bucky mirrored.

The general then stepped forward into Clint's equally warm embrace. "How are you, my friend?" he asked and Okoye pulled back with a wide smile.

"I am well. You look well also."

"I am," Clint agreed and made a general motion around him. "The training is progressing nicely now that Bucky is also helping."

Okoye turned a smaller, equally grateful smile toward Bucky. "We appreciate your time, Sergeant."

"My pleasure, General."

"I have something for you," Okoye told Clint and turned to take a case from one of the Dora Milaje standing a few feet away. She held the case flat in both hands to present it to Clint. "From Shuri, courtesy of the King. He said he owed you a replacement."

Clint's hands hesitated just short of the case, long enough that Okoye frowned in concern and Bucky took an instinctive step forward in silent support. They watched as Clint took a long breath before he finally reached out to open the case. Inside was a gorgeous recurve bow with a bowstring curled in one corner. Both gleamed differently enough in the fading light that Bucky assumed they were made, at least partially, of vibranium. 

"These will not break," Okoye said softly.

"Thank you," Clint responded and Bucky had now known Clint long enough to see that his smile didn't reach his eyes. He trailed his fingertips over the bow without actually making contact, then he shut, latched, and took the case from Okoye with a more natural smile. "Will you be returning to the palace tonight?"

"Yes, but I have a little time if you will walk with me?"

"Of course." Clint turned and held the bow case out to Bucky. "Would you mind taking this back for me? I'll be there soon."

Bucky wrapped his hand around the handle of the case, but his concern must still have shown on his face because Clint mouthed, "I'm okay," before he stepped back and joined Okoye. Bucky watched them walk toward the river for a moment and then turned his attention to making sure that the training field had been properly cleared. Satisfied that all of the weaponry had been put away, Bucky made the short walk back to their hut. He wasn't sure what to do when he got there, so he placed the case on the island and went to his room to get cleaned up.

When Bucky emerged from his shower, Clint was already back in the kitchen staring down at the case. Bucky wasn't sure how to read the expression his face. Clint didn't look upset, but he also didn’t look as happy as Bucky would have expected either. 

"You okay?" Bucky asked as he moved to stand next to Clint.

"This is the longest I’ve ever gone without holding a bow," Clint confessed. "Even when I was a merc, I found ranges where no one asked questions."

"You were a mercenary? Did we ever cross paths?"

The corner of Clint’s mouth raised in a half-smile that held no mirth. He reached out and tucked a stray strand of damp hair behind Bucky’s ear before answering. 

"I went by the name Ronin."

Bucky’s eyes went wide because Hydra had told him about the famed assassin named Ronin. The name had carried with it nearly the same weight as the Winter Soldier—ruthless and unstoppable. Ronin had also refused to be hired by Hydra and they’d woken the Soldier for the infraction, only to realize other assassin had disappeared. 

"Sins of our past," Clint said softly. "Yours were at least less selfish than mine."

Bucky grabbed Clint’s hand before he could pull away. "I don’t believe that."

The moment stretched. Clint had never looked at Bucky as anything other than a good man put in a bad situation and Bucky wanted Clint to know he wouldn't think differently of his friend. Bucky believed down to his core that there was no evil in Clint Barton. He just didn't know if he had the right words to convey this. 

Luckily, Clint didn't need him to. Clint looked deep into Bucky's eyes, then gave him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand reassuringly. Bucky squeezed back before letting go, their palms sliding together as they separated. An unexpected shiver raced down Bucky's spine at the sensation and he blinked in surprise, but Clint had already turned away to open the refrigerator. 

"How about we heat up leftovers, eat in front of the tv, and watch a movie?" Clint suggested.

"Sounds good," Bucky agreed as he shoved the odd moment to the back his mind. "I can take care of the food if you want to get cleaned up."

"Great. Thanks Buck."

Bucky took Clint's place at the refrigerator and was carefully plating the reheated food when Clint came back, still pulling on a fresh shirt. Bucky glanced over and his eyes caught on the hard planes of Clint's stomach before they were covered by cotton. 

"So, hey," Clint said and Bucky snapped his eyes up. "I probably should have asked this before, but do you want me to get word to Steve that you're awake?"

"You're in contact with Steve?"

"Not directly, but I can always find Nat. I think they've worked together a bit, though I'm not sure if they're staying together. I can get him word, if you want."

Shuri had only told Bucky that Steve had left with Sam soon after he'd gone back into cryo. "What's he doing?"

"Being an avenger without being an Avenger," Clint said. "Last I heard, they were taking out arms dealers trying to sell alien tech."

"And Sam's still with him?"

"From what I know, yes."

"Then I'm okay waiting. I don't want to distract him. I trust Sam to keep him from doing anything too dumb. They're…" Bucky hesitated with the words that came to his mind, then decided to just spit it out. "... going steady."

It did have the desired effect of causing Clint's full, thousand watt grin to emerge. Then Clint tilted his head inquisitively at Bucky. "And you're okay with them… going steady?"

"It was on the list."

Bucky had already told Clint about the list of pertinent information that Hydra would keep him up to date on each time he came out of cryo. They must have felt that sexuality and society's varied acceptance of them would somehow help the Soldier blend into the general population during some of his longer and more subtle missions.

"Knowing and accepting are two different things," Clint gently pointed out.

Bucky look away and played with the food on his plate. Clint was right, but it wasn't his acceptance of Steve that Bucky was worried about.

"There's, uh, a reason Steve and I have always been friends," Bucky admitted, still hesitant to state a more straightforward confession. 

"I'm glad you had someone who understood and was a good a friend as Steve. Not everyone gets that." The quiet honesty in Clint's voice made Bucky look up to see Clint's understanding smile. "I'm bisexual," Clint told him without hesitation. 

"Oh."

There was a pause that Bucky didn't know how to fill until Clint grabbed his plate and nodded toward the living room. 

"Let's eat before you gotta warm the food up again. We've been too serious today," Clint said as he moved toward the sofa and Bucky followed. "How about a comedy?"

"Works for me."

"I think I have an idea. Since we've already watched Star Wars, you should get most of this one..."

~^~

Bucky woke up the next morning to a light knock at his door. He'd already called out for Clint to enter before it even registered in his mind to be concerned for his safety or question that it may not be Clint at the door. Bucky froze for a split-second when the realization sank in, then did a mental facepalm and reminded himself that anyone with ill intentions probably wouldn't knock.

Clint opened the door as Bucky sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Clint was already dressed for the day and there was enough light from the hall that Bucky could see that Clint was holding his bow. Bucky also thought he saw Clint's eyes flick down to his bare chest for a split second, but brushed it off as a trick of the light.

"I, um, was going to go out early to…" Clint raised his bow and shrugged. "I was, ah, wondering if you'd maybe like to go with me."

"Yeah, sure," Bucky responded quickly, voice still gravelly with sleep. He cleared his throat and nodded to make sure Clint understood. "Yes, I'll come with you. Give me a few minutes to get dressed."

"Thanks." Clint's shoulders dropped in relief and Bucky felt a rush of pride that Clint wanted his support. "Want me to wrap something up for you to eat on the way?" Clint offered. 

Bucky nodded again, turned on the lamp, and scrambled out of bed. This time, there was enough light to see Clint's eyes quickly flick down to Bucky's chest before Clint turned away and left the room. Bucky blinked in surprise and then smirked, flattered by the thought of Clint sneaking a look at him. 

Then as Bucky reached for a shirt, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and the smirk faded. Bucky had switched to more western-style clothing to be more comfortable during training and the loose shirts he'd been wearing did a better job at not drawing attention to his left shoulder. This morning was also the first time Clint had seen Bucky without a shirt on, so he shouldn't be surprised that Clint would steal a glance at what was left of his metal shoulder. Bucky called himself a fool and blamed their discussion last night for letting his mind stray. There was no reason to believe that Clint would be attracted to Bucky just because he'd admitted to being bisexual. 

Bucky pushed the whole thing out of his mind and finished getting dressed. When he emerged from his room, Clint was waiting for him with two bagels and Bucky accepted them with a grateful smile, stashing the wrapped one in the pocket of his hoodie while taking a bite out of the other as they left the hut. 

"Why haven't you touched a bow since Germany?" Bucky asked as they walked.

"Two reasons, really. One, I couldn't go to my usual safe houses in case Stark was actively looking for me. I purposely don't keep bows at my truly hidden ones because they're pretty conspicuous if the places were compromised."

They had reached the area they'd been using for training and Clint paused for a minute as he looked out at one of the targets.

"And the other reason?" Bucky prodded.

"The bow is Hawkeye's weapon and I'd come to associate Hawkeye with being an Avenger. Tony putting us in the Raft…" Clint sighed and his grip tightened on the bow in his hand. "The fight was one thing—nobody was really trying to hurt anyone. Rhodey was an accident. It was Tony handing us over to Ross that made me realize that the Avengers had really fallen apart."

"You can still be Hawkeye without the Avengers."

"That's the thing, Buck. I'm not sure I want to be."

Bucky stepped forward and placed his hand over Clint's on the bow. "Aren't you the one that's been telling me not to let other people define who I am? It doesn't matter if you're Hawkeye or just Clint. If the bow is what you love, then don't let Stark or Ross take that away from you."

The corner of Clint's mouth lifted and a little of his usual sparkle came back to his eyes. "You actually listened to all my yammering?"

"You never shut up," Bucky teased back. "Some of it had to sink in eventually." 

"With your hard head, I figured it would take a few years." 

"Ha ha," Bucky deadpanned. He dropped his hand and took a few steps back. "Come on, then. Show me how it's done."

Clint shrugged his shoulders, settling one quiver more firmly across his back and placing a second one down by his feet. To Bucky, it seemed like Clint had brought an unnecessary amount of arrows with them, but he was soon proven wrong once Clint really started shooting. He started off with one arrow hitting dead center on the first shot and then two more in rapid succession into two adjacent targets without looking away from the first. Then Clint shot three at one time to land precisely next to the first three. After that, Clint moved so fast that Bucky would swear his arms were a blur.

Seeing Clint doing what he did best was both mesmerizing and enlightening for Bucky. Clint was unquestionably attractive with a bow in his hands. As he watched Clint, Bucky had to admit to himself that he'd _wanted_ to believe Clint could be attracted to him because he found Clint attractive. Bucky was unsure at first, but came to the conclusion that he didn't need to be overly bothered by the revelation. Clint was an attractive man and Bucky figured that Clint knew he looked damn good shooting his bow. It had also been a long time since Bucky had felt attraction, so he decided to let himself enjoy the moment, thankful that he was well enough to feel it at all. 

As Clint continued to fire arrow after arrow, the Wakandans they'd been training slowly arrived, a respectful silence spreading among them as they watched along with Bucky. Perhaps for the first time they understood who their trainer really was. This was a man turned Avenger, who'd spent his life working tirelessly to be the best marksman in the world. Now he was here with them and, as much as he'd earned their respect before, this display of skill demanded it.

After he’d fired the last arrow, Clint turned to Bucky with a cocky grin and eyes filled with pure, shining joy. Bucky felt his chest go tight at the beauty of it. 

"Clear!" one of the Wakandans called out. 

"Clear!" the others responded and Clint turned around fully to face them. 

"Clear," Bucky said softly and raised his own hand. He fought back a smile because he had a guess as to what was about to happen and Clint looked adorably confused. 

Everyone looked at Clint expectantly until he gave them a tentative, "Retrieve," and the Wakandans took off into the field. 

Clint watched them go and then looked at Bucky with a frown, his brow still furrowed in confusion. Bucky couldn’t hold his smile back any longer as he stepped forward and placed a hand on Clint’s shoulder. With a nudge, Bucky turned Clint to face the returning Wakandans. One by one, the Wakandans came back, each gently holding an arrow or two in their hands. They gave Clint a nod or a smile before saying a quiet, "Clear", and placing the arrows in Clint’s outstretched hands, until they overflowed onto his arms. Clint, clearly overwhelmed, bit his lip and nodded at each of his students in turn. 

"All right!" Bucky called out when their tribute was done, trying to give Clint the break he needed. "Time to get to work! Everyone get your gear." The Wakandans dispersed and Bucky gave Clint’s shoulder a squeeze. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Clint responded softly and gave Bucky a slightly watery smile. "Thanks."

Then Clint turned, leaned into Bucky, and laid his head on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky felt the briefest contact against his neck as Clint took a deep, calming breath before he stepped away to replace his arrows inside the quivers. Bucky didn't dare move because an unexpectedly large part of him wanted to wrap his arm tightly around Clint in comfort and reassurance, to keep Clint close with his nose pressed into Bucky’s neck, and never let go.

"Can you hold this for a sec?" 

Bucky looked over to see that Clint was holding one of the quivers out to him. 

"Uh, sure."

Bucky once again shrugged off the odd moment and tried to focus on the day at hand, but his mind and his eyes continued to wander toward Clint. By midday, Bucky had decided that he needed to curb this attraction that was quickly turning into an infatuation. Clint was his friend and Bucky didn't have so many of those that he could risk losing one or having things turn awkward—Clint wasn't the type to abandon a friendship due to an unrequited crush. It would be unrequited, Bucky was sure, because Clint was still in love with his ex-wife.

Just the other night, Clint had been showing Bucky pictures of his family that had been securely forwarded by an old contact. Most of the pictures had been of the kids, but there was a selfie taken by one of the older kids that included Laura and another man in the background. The man had his arm around her and Laura had been looking at the man adoringly instead of the camera. Clint had given the picture a sad smile that made Bucky's chest pang in sympathy. 

"I'm sorry," Bucky said and Clint had looked at Bucky in surprise.

"What for?"

Bucky nodded at the picture and Clint shook his head. 

"Laura and I both believe that love shouldn't be selfish. Loving someone means you want them to be happy. Laura and I weren't meant to be together, but it doesn't mean we need to stop loving each other or that we can't fall in love with someone else. Our hearts are big enough for more than one person."

Clint's voice had gone quietly wistful at the end and, despite his words, Bucky could see the love in Clint's eyes when he talked about Laura. Bucky needed to focus on being Clint's friend and nothing more.


	3. Stumbling Towards Joy

Clint wasn't making it easy on Bucky. With every day that passed, he seemed intent on doing things to make Bucky fall for him. 

There were the big things, like goading Bucky into sparring with him to prove to everyone—mostly Bucky—that being down an arm didn't mean he'd lost his training or his skill. The steady presence and solid grip on Bucky's shoulder on the, now rare, occasions that he was overcome by memories. The willingness to share his own worst memories and experiences so Bucky didn't feel so alone. The day he'd secretly arranged for their training to consist of big band music and swing dancing lessons because everyone needed a reason to laugh.

But it was the small, amazingly considerate, things that did the most damage to Bucky's vulnerable heart. How there was a steady stock of Bucky's favorite foods that somehow made it into their Wakandan pantry. How Clint had a nearly precognitive ability to know exactly when Bucky needed a protein bar, a drink of water, or just a quiet minute to himself. How Clint's eyes lit up in joy each and every morning, as if seeing Bucky was what he needed to start the day. 

Bucky always looked forward to walking into the kitchen and be greeted by Clint's warm smile, so he was a little surprised one morning when he could hear Clint's voice as soon as he stepped out of his room. Instinct told him to stay quiet in the hall and watch as Clint paced while he spoke with someone on the phone. 

"Just make sure you’re ready…" Clint advised with a pause as the person on the other end responded. "No, I’m not coming back to New York. You know my terms, Stark. You've had plenty of time to calm down." A longer pause and then Clint huffed out a humorless laugh. "We forgetting Wanda and Pietro’s parents? What about—… How the _fuck_ is it different?" 

Bucky heard Clint sigh and when Bucky glanced around the corner, he saw that Clint had sat down with his head tilted back against the top of the sofa. Clint’s voice, when he next spoke, was laced with a pain that resounded in Bucky’s own chest. 

"Agents Brian Silva, Dennis Malik, Sylvia Greene, Janet Lewis, Specialist DePalva, Private Dickinson, Dr. Jameson. I can go on. I know all their names, remember all their faces. Should I give Ross the full list and let him lock me back up in the Raft where I belong? … It _is_ fucking fair, Tony." Clint’s voice switched to anger. "He wasn’t any more in control than I was. I know you’ve seen the records of how they kept him that way. The number of times he tried to break free because he never wanted to kill all those people. I’ve seen the videos of the reprogramming and I bet you have too. How Bucky screamed through the pain of them trying to destroy who he really was. Stop believing you have the moral high ground, Tony, because we both know you _never_ had it."

Bucky stepped fully into the room at the sound of the phone slamming against the table, not bothering to hide that he’d been listening. He knew he wouldn’t have the words to explain everything he was feeling, so Bucky just stepped up to where Clint was now standing by the couch and wrapped his arm around him tightly. Clint didn’t hesitate to hug back and Bucky buried his face in the crook of Clint’s neck as Clint rested his cheek against Bucky’s hair. They stayed like that for a long moment until Clint slowly moved his arms from around Bucky and took a small step back. 

An emotion Bucky couldn’t place flitted across Clint’s face before he smiled, reached up, and tucked a lock of hair behind Bucky’s ear. 

"Come on," Clint said. "Time for breakfast."

Bucky nodded, but didn’t move away just yet. "Thanks," he said simply and trusted Clint to understand everything the single word encompassed.

"Always," Clint responded and looked like he wanted to say more, but only gave Bucky an enigmatic smile and stepped around him to start making breakfast.

As Clint cooked, he started telling a silly story about one of the Avengers' missions. It didn't escape Bucky's notice that the story prominently featured Stark, because Clint wasn't subtle about his desire for both Bucky and Tony to stop seeing the other as a monster. Bucky laughed along with Clint as he poured syrup over his pancakes and realized that his internal dilemma had been solved. There was no longer any point in avoiding or ignoring the fact that Bucky was in love with Clint. He was head over heels for Clint already and it came as a surprisingly calming revelation. 

Bucky never intended to act on his feelings, but he also had no desire to suppress them. Clint genuinely cared about him and, even if Bucky's heart chose to translate that friendship into love, Bucky had a difficult time seeing it as something negative. Loving Clint made Bucky happy, so as long as that stayed true and he didn't yearn for something more, Bucky planned to embrace it. He could almost hear the little Clint inside his head cheering about how good it was for Bucky to exercise agency.

"Buck?" Clint asked tentatively after Bucky had been quiet for too long. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," Bucky smiled and relished the warm feeling that spread through him when Clint smiled back. "Yeah, I'm good."

~^~

"This," Clint said as he gingerly sat himself down on the couch with a groan, "is why I thought retiring was a good idea."

Bucky rolled his eyes at Clint's usual complaint. Despite Clint's nightly grumbling about sore muscles and old joints, Clint trained just as hard as Bucky out in the field. There was only one occurrence that Bucky could recall, when Okoye had flown down to start training on close-range staff fighting, that had ended up with Clint stuck in bed for a day and taking it easy for a few more days after. Bucky figured it was more a result of going blow-to-blow with a Dora Milaje than anything to do with Clint's age. The extra rest had actually been more at Okoye's insistence than Clint's. 

"Little violin," Bucky responded and rubbed his fingers in front of Clint's face, like Shuri had taught him.

Clint pushed Bucky's hand away and settled a little deeper into the couch. "Be nice to your elders."

"I will be, if Thor ever comes back. I'm six months older than Steve, so Thor's the only person that counts."

"Yeah, because literal years is what I'm talking about," Clint responded and then started the movie to effectively cut off further conversation. 

The movie they had chosen was the last of the Hobbit series and Bucky was soon fully engrossed in the plot. He was so engrossed that he startled when there was an unexpected weight against his arm. Luckily, his brain instinctively registered it as not-a-threat and Bucky was able to calmly look over to see that Clint had fallen asleep. 

Bucky frowned in concern, because Clint had to be exhausted if the slide along the couch and into Bucky hadn't woken him. He knew in the back of his mind that Clint didn't sleep much—he was always awake before Bucky in the mornings and after Bucky went to bed in the evenings. This close, Bucky could see the dark circles under Clint's eyes that spoke of many sleepless nights and wondered if there was anything he could do to help. 

Clint shifted in his sleep and Bucky realized that Clint's head was resting in an odd angle. Bucky moved his arm, careful not to jostle Clint into waking, and repositioned them with Clint laying more comfortably against his upper chest and shoulder. Bucky couldn't resist placing his cheek against the top of Clint's head when Clint let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer. Bucky would worry about explaining their positions later, after Clint woke up.

Except Clint didn't wake up and Bucky wasn't sure what to do as the credits rolled across the screen. A gentle prod at Clint's side only resulted in Clint burrowing closer and wrapping an arm around Bucky's waist. For the first time since he'd woken, Bucky wished he still had his left arm so that he had the option of carrying Clint to bed. Instead, he moved his remaining arm behind Clint and under his arm, got a good grip, and slowly pushed them to standing.

"Wha-huh?" Clint mumbled as he leaned heavily into Bucky and nearly tipped them over. Clint was solid muscle and Bucky was glad for his extra strength as it helped ensure that they stayed mostly upright.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed."

Clint's eyes opened to slits, then he seemed to think it was too much effort, and he closed them again before laying his head heavily on Bucky's shoulder. "Bed…"

"Yeah, bed," Bucky responded with an amused grin at Clint's sleepy mumbles. "Help me out here, okay?"

"M'kay." Clint nodded without lifting his head. 

Bucky let out a huff of fond annoyance and took a step forward, somewhat surprised when Clint's legs moved with him. Together, but with Bucky taking on most of Clint's weight, they shuffled into Clint's room where Bucky gently laid Clint down on the bed. Thankfully, Clint was already wearing the light sweats and threadbare t-shirt that Bucky assumed he wore to sleep. He made sure Clint was tucked loosely under the light blanket and, unable to help himself, Bucky brushed his lips against Clint's forehead.

"Mmm… Bucky," Clint mumbled.

Bucky jumped back guiltily, but Clint didn't show any other signs of waking. He slowly released the breath he was holding, then realized that watching Clint sleep was probably creepy and quickly edged out of the room. Bucky berated himself for the kiss the whole time he was getting ready for bed. He reminded himself that Clint trusted Bucky _as a friend_ and falling asleep beside him didn't mean anything. It didn't matter how right it felt to have Clint in his arms. He fell asleep trying not to think about how suddenly empty the space next to him felt.

He woke to sound of screaming. It took Bucky a few seconds to realize that it wasn't his own screams torn out of him by a nightmare.

"Bucky! Nooooo!" 

Bucky shot out of bed and stumbled down the hall and into Clint's room, belatedly registering that he'd left both of their doors open last night. He found Clint curled in a fetal position, his arms covering his head as if protecting himself from a blow.

"Steve… Nat… Oh god, Wanda," Clint sobbed. "Not enough. Not enough. Not enough."

Clint curled tighter into himself and continued to sob as Bucky reached out to grip his shoulder tightly. He wasn't sure if waking someone from a nightmare like this was a good idea, but he couldn't keep watching Clint suffer.

"Clint. Clint! It's just a dream. Wake up for me," Bucky said as he shook Clint's shoulder. He knelt on the floor next to the bed and wrapped his arm around Clint to pull him into an awkward hug. "It's Bucky. I'm here. You're okay. You're safe. Wake up for me. _Please_ , Clint. Wake up for me."

Clint's breathing finally started to even out and Bucky loosened his hold so that Clint could uncurl and look up at him.

"Bucky?"

"Yeah," Bucky answered and tried to smile reassuringly, even though his heart was still rabbiting in his chest. "I'm here."

Clint reached out with shaking fingers and the tension in his body released with a relieved sigh when he made contact with Bucky's cheek. "Still a dream," Clint whispered and cupped Bucky's jaw with his hand, thumb stroking softly against his beard. 

Clint's eyes shone with relief and something else that Bucky wasn't ready to believe, but hope had his heart hammering against his chest in response. Clint shifted closer, pressed a tender kiss at the corner of Bucky's mouth, and left his lips to hover there as he waited for Bucky. 

Bucky threw caution to the wind, turned his head toward Clint, and let his heart take the lead. The kiss was gentle—almost reverent—neither of them seeking more than a reassurance that the other was there, that they were there together. After their lips parted, Clint bumped Bucky's nose affectionately with his and pulled back to give him a smile that Bucky matched. 

"Stay?" Clint asked, his voice still rough with the remnants of his nightmare. "We can talk in the morning, but for now… will you stay?"

Bucky nodded, his own fatigue surfacing with the drop in adrenaline. Clint shifted back to give Bucky space to slide onto the bed and then hesitated. After a moment of thought, Clint laid down on his back and reached an arm out to beckon Bucky closer. Bucky took the hint and laid down with his head pillowed on Clint's chest. 

"Okay?" Clint asked softly.

"More than okay," Bucky answered as he wrapped his arm around Clint's waist and draped himself like a heavy blanket across Clint. He was too tired to be cautious and an opportunity to sleep next to Clint was too tempting not to take advantage of. 

Bucky felt Clint press a kiss to the top of his head and then he began to run his fingers through Bucky's long hair in a gentle massage. Clint's warmth seeped into Bucky and his eyes began to droop, but he fought against the drowsiness because Bucky had had enough nightmares to know that Clint was unlikely to fall back asleep. 

"Sleep," Clint prodded softly and, between one breath and the next, Bucky let himself slip into slumber.

~^~

When Bucky woke the next morning, he was disappointed to find that Clint was no longer in bed with him. On the nightstand was Bucky's usual coffee mug with a note attached to it that said breakfast was in the oven. Clint had signed the note with a heart and his initials, which helped soothe Bucky's apprehension about waking to an empty bed.

Bucky sat up and took a small sip of coffee. It was still hot, which meant that Clint hadn't been gone too long. Bucky wondered if Clint had gotten any sleep as he rose and continued to sip at the coffee appreciatively. He padded across the hall to his own room to get dressed for the day, draining the rest of the mug before stepping back out into the hall. When he walked into the kitchen carrying the empty mug, Bucky was surprised to find Shuri seated at the island eating breakfast.

"Good morning, Bucky," Shuri greeted with a smile. "You're lucky. If you'd woken any later, I would have eaten your share of Clint's french toast. These are amazing."

"Clint's a good cook," Bucky agreed as he refilled his mug before turning back to face her. "Good morning, Shuri. Not that I mind your company, but is there a reason why you're here so early plotting to steal my breakfast?"

"My brother wanted to speak with Clint. They went for a walk along the river. They didn't say how long they'd be."

"More french toast for us then," Bucky said as he opened the oven. 

As he'd suspected, there was plenty of food to share and he put a few more pieces on Shuri's plate before serving himself. Shuri gave him a beaming smile in thanks and they ate their breakfast in companionable silence. Bucky took both their plates when they were done and was rinsing them out in the sink when Shuri next spoke.

"Since I'm here, I can take measurements for your new arm."

"My new—?" 

Bucky turned around and froze. Shuri had projected the image of a metal arm over the island. There was a small, logical portion of Bucky's brain that tried to tell him it was a different arm, but what filled Bucky's mind was all the pain from the first. A horrific reel of events began to play out in Bucky's head: the mangled remains of his arm after the fall from the train, the agony when they'd first fitted the metal arm, the unending trial and error needed until Zola learned to extend the prosthetic to his shoulder to properly bear the weight. What followed was worse. The arm had brought nothing but blood and death. Bucky was flooded with memories of the pain he'd caused with the arm, an endless stream of faces on his kill count, until the flood threatened to drown him.

"Bucky breathe!" a voice commanded through the deluge. "Come on, breathe for me, sweetheart."

Clint's hands were warm on Bucky's cheeks and, when he blinked out of the haze, he saw concerned sea-blue eyes instead of a metal nightmare.

"That's it. Breathe with me. In… and then out.'

Bucky took a shuddering breath, then another, and another, until his breathing had evened out and his heart rate slowed closer to normal. When he could speak, all he was able to managed was a choked, "Clint."

"It's okay. We're okay," Clint said soothingly. 

Clint moved his hands and slid one to the back of Buck's head, then maneuvered them so that Bucky's face was tucked against the crook of Clint's neck. Bucky wrapped his arm around Clint and clung tightly to the back of his shirt. 

"You're okay," Clint repeated and began to move his other hand up and down Bucky's back. "You're safe. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want. I won't allow it."

It was then that Bucky realized he was trembling in Clint's arms. The fear of going back to what Hydra had made him, of losing everything he'd gained over the past few months was threatening to overwhelm him. Clint seemed to sense the downward spiral of his thoughts and tightened his grip on the back of Bucky's neck to anchor him. Bucky clung tighter and put his trust in Clint's promise to protect him.

He heard a shuffle of movement and then nothing else for the long, few minutes it took for Bucky to recover. When Bucky finally calmed and relaxed his hold, Clint pulled back just enough so that he could look into Bucky's eyes.

"Good?"

"Getting there," Bucky answered honestly. "Shuri caught me by surprise."

"How about we sit on the couch and talk about it?"

"What about training?"

Clint shook his head. "Feast day, remember? No training to let everyone spend time with their families."

"Oh. Is that why T'Challa was here?"

"Partially," Clint said as he led them over to the couch. "He wanted an update on how the training was going. Do you want to tell me what just happened? It's okay if you don't."

"Like I said, Shuri caught me by surprise. I, uh…" Bucky paused to gather his scattered thoughts. "I guess I wasn't expecting to need an arm like that again. A weapon."

"It can just be an arm," Clint pointed out. "I'm sure Shuri would love to make you a standard prosthetic. Or if it's not just about the arm…" Clint reached out and placed a hand on Bucky's knee. "There's no shame in walking away, Buck. It's okay to be done. You've had your share of fighting in your life. You don't have to be part of this one."

Bucky frowned in confusion. Clint was talking like they were still at war. He thought back to all the training and how all the Wakandans were so intent on it. In hindsight, Bucky could now see that Wakanda was preparing for war and Clint was helping them. 

"What fight is coming?" Bucky asked. "Why are you here, Clint? Why all the training? What are we preparing for?"

Clint hesitated, then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier, given you an option. I just assumed…"

"Then tell me now," Bucky insisted. "Please."

"Hydra told you about the Tesseract and Loki's Scepter?"

"Mostly the Tesseract," Bucky answered.

"Right. They didn't get the scepter until after SHIELD fell." 

"The Tesseract was a source of power."

"Actually, it was a doorway to the other end of space that could be used to harness power," Clint corrected. 

"That distinction is important because…?"

"Inside of it is an Infinity Stone. From what Thor told me, there are six of them that were created at the beginning of the universe… or helped create the universe or… something. Anyway, they supposedly contain the main essence of what make up the universe—space, reality, time, power, mind, and soul. I've had the unfortunate honor of being in contact with two of them… possibly three."

" _Possibly_?"

Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "My mind… my dreams, have never been quite the same since Loki touched me with the scepter, with the mind stone inside of it. The guy who had it before Loki was pretty fucked up and I've seen way more of his massacres in my nightmares than I like to think about."

"Were you all affected?"

"I'll never really know. I was the only agent Loki took that made it out of the attack on the Helicarrier alive."

Bucky frowned in sympathy. No wonder Clint seemed to understand the guilt he was carrying.

"What about the scientist?"

"You mean Selvig?" Bucky nodded and Clint shook his head. "I asked him and he wasn't experiencing anything to the extent that I have. Thor thought it was because the mind stone had to work harder to control me, but I think Thor was just trying to be nice."

"So you've been having these nightmares for six years?"

"Yeah and I was dealing with it. Then I went to Hong Kong."

"What happened in Hong Kong?"

"I… don't know. I was there to meet a contact. Ross sent word through outside sources that he'd make a deal that'd let us see our families if we turned ourselves in. Needed my contact to let me know Laura and the kids were safe and nowhere Ross could get to them. I was walking back to my hotel after the meet and…"

"And?" Bucky prodded when Clint didn't immediately continue. 

"It's really hard to explain." Clint dragged his hand down his face in frustration. "One second, I'm walking and everything's normal. Next second, my heart is beating like I was about to run into a fight. It felt like something happened and then it didn't."

Bucky quickly thought back to everything Clint had just told him. "Like something changed reality or rewound time?"

"I think the rewind one, yeah."

"Why the rewind?"

"The time stone being involved seems like the right answer. My nightmares changed after Hong Kong. Instead of seeing things that already happened…" Clint shrugged and let Bucky draw his own conclusions. 

"You think you're getting, what? Premonitions?" Clint nodded solemnly and another piece of the puzzle suddenly clicked in Bucky's mind. "The story you told the kids. The battle in Wakanda. So we win?"

"I don't know. I made up the ending. My nightmares never show that."

"I have a new arm in the story you told."

"It changes. The dreams are never the same. In the first one I had in Hong Kong, I wasn't even here. I think the future is still shifting depending on what we do, the choices we make."

"But the fight's coming here, to Wakanda?"

"That part doesn't change."

"Okoye and T'Challa… they believe you?" It wasn't that Bucky didn't believe Clint, because he did. The whole thing just seemed too fantastical for total strangers to take Clint's word that it was true. 

"Yeah, I was surprised too, but it sounds like Wakanda's entire history is wrapped up in mysticism. They were inclined to believe me and I had no reason to lie."

Bucky stood to pace, trying to process everything. The idea of the metal arm still made Bucky's stomach churn, but walking away from a fight didn't make him feel much better, especially since he'd come to see Wakanda as home. There was also something else that nagged at the back of his mind and he didn't stop to think before he dropped down to kneel in front of Clint. 

"If I said I was done fighting and turned down the arm. If I left…" Bucky took a deep breath as Clint’s eyes widened. "If I asked, would you come with me?"

Clint’s mouth dropped open in shock and the look on his face made Bucky’s breath hitch. Clint looked as if the thought of Bucky walking away had already broken his heart. 

"I’d want to," Clint answered after a long moment. He started to reach out to Bucky and then dropped his hand, sorrow and loss openly on display in his eyes. Clint was already mourning Bucky as another casualty of his lifetime of fighting. "It’s no longer about what I want. I need to be here to give the people I love a chance to live… _all_ the people I love."

It wasn't a full confession, but it was enough. Bucky surged forward and kissed Clint, his hand coming up to gently cradle the back of Clint's head as Clint's hands gripped Bucky's hips, as Clint kissed him back. He poured everything he felt into the kiss, so Bucky wasn't surprised when he finally pulled back that Clint looked a little dazed. Then he blinked and Clint's expression shifted into confusion.

"Buck?" Clint asked.

Bucky laughed, pure happiness bubbling out of him. "I'm sorry," he said and gave Clint another quick kiss. "That was cruel. I needed to know, but I shouldn't have… I would never ask. I don't know why…" Bucky shook his head, unable to explain himself. Why he'd posed a question that he never imagined asking. "I love you, Clint."

Clint blinked in surprise and then smiled at him. "I love you too, Bucky."

"I love _all_ of you," Bucky clarified. "You're a hero down to your core. It's part of why I fell in love with you. I'd never ask you to bow out of a fight, only to let me stand next to you."

Clint sagged and fell forward into Bucky. "Thank fuck. That was horrible."

"I already apologized."

"Jerk," Clint said without any real venom.

"Well… Wouldn't want you to feel like we didn't have things in common."

"Not funny," Clint retorted with a frown, but then he leaned forward and kissed Bucky, so he figured he'd been forgiven. 

The kiss led to another and then a few more until Bucky remembered there were other thing to attend to. 

"I should probably let Shuri tell me about the new arm."

"No." Clint shook his head. "You panicked just looking at a hologram. Give yourself some time to get used to the idea."

"How do we know we have that time to give?"

"We don't. Until we do know, I don't want you to make a decision you'll regret later."

"But I just said—" Bucky started to argue, but Clint interrupted him with a quick kiss. 

"I know what you said, Buck. And what I said is that I love you too. That means I need you to be sure you're doing this for _you_."

Bucky let Clint's words sink in, thought back to the image that had been floating over the counter, and had to suppress a shudder. Clint saw it anyway and raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess I can take a day or two to get used to the idea." Bucky moved to sit next to Clint on the sofa and settled close enough so that they were pressed together.

Clint smiled widely and kissed Bucky's cheek. "The king and Shuri are having lunch with Dore's family. We're invited too. What did you want to do until then?"

Bucky said the first thing that came to mind. "Pretend to watch a movie and make out instead."

Clint barked out a surprised laugh and grinned as his eyes shone with happiness. Bucky grinned back and wrapped his arm around Clint's shoulders to pull him closer. He made Clint happy and that knowledge spread a warmth through Bucky that chased away the last of the darkness and pain from earlier. 

"Yeah," Clint agreed. "We can definitely do that."


	4. Adapting Together

"Bucky. Bucky. Open your eyes. It's time to wake up now."

Bucky's eyelids felt heavy, but he fought to open them because he knew that voice and would do anything the voice asked of him. 

"Clint?" Bucky croaked as his eyes fluttered open. 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Need some water?" Clint asked. 

Bucky loved Clint's smiles, especially ones like he was giving Bucky now that reached all the way to Clint's eyes and made them shine with fond affection. Those smile always made Bucky want to kiss Clint, so he reached out to pull him closer. Clint startled at the movement, which didn't make sense to Bucky until he realized that Clint was holding onto Bucky's right hand with both of his. 

He frowned in confusion and moved until his hand was in front of his face. Bucky's mouth dropped open in shock when he caught sight of the metal hand and then turned it to watch how it reflected the light despite it now being a darker metal. 

"Clint! Look at my hand," Bucky gushed and moved it closer to Clint. "Oh hey! I've got a whole arm."

Clint blinked a few times and then looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. Bucky was immediately distracted. 

"I love hearing you laugh," Bucky told him. "I love being the one to make you laugh."

Clint's smile softened and he leaned forward to give Bucky a kiss that was way too short. He made a disgruntled noise and pouted when Clint pulled away. 

"Uh-uh. More kisses please."

Clint did laugh this time and looked over his shoulder. "What the hell kind of sedative did you give him?"

Bucky glanced behind Clint and saw Shuri standing at the foot of his bed. 

"Hi Shuri!" Bucky waved at her, which brought his left arm back into view. He waved again and then waved with just his fingers because his hand looked really pretty in the light. 

"Hello Bucky," Shuri greeted with a wide grin and then turned to Clint. "The surgery seems to have gone well. Maybe I should come back a little later when he's feeling more himself?"

"I feel great!" Bucky spread his hand wide and moved it up and down like he would a toy plane.

"That's probably a good idea," Clint answered Shuri.

"Be careful. The arm's not calibrated yet," Shuri warned and waited for Clint to nod before leaving the room.

"I'm tired and hungry," Bucky complained after Shuri walked out.

"Why don't we start with water?" Clint suggested. Bucky nodded and started to reach for the cup in Clint's hand, but Clint pulled it back quickly. "That arm's not quite ready yet. Why don't you let me hold it for you?"

"Kay."

Bucky dutifully sipped water through the straw Clint held out for him and then settled heavily against the pillows. His eyelids felt very heavy.

"Sleep or food?" Clint asked.

"Sleep. Stay?"

"Yeah, Bucky. I'll stay right here. It's okay to go to sleep."

Bucky was asleep before he remembered closing his eyes. When he next woke, it was to a vague feeling of embarrassment. He opened his eyes and the look Clint was giving him definitely meant he'd done something to be embarrassed about.

"What did I do?" Bucky groaned as Clint raised the bed to a sitting position and his shit-eating grin widened.

"Let's just say you're adorable when you're stoned. We should do the experiment sometime to see if we can get you drunk. I bet you're adorable then too."

"I am not adorable," Bucky protested.

"You were quite adorable," Shuri countered as she walked into the room and ignored Bucky's responding glare. "The good news was that you were able to naturally move the arm."

Bucky looked down at the arm, glad to see that the darker metal reminded him more of Wakandan weapons than it did of his old arm. He lifted it and flexed his fingers as Shuri moved to stand next to him.

"It's lighter than I expected," Bucky said.

Shuri nodded. "It's designed to bear its own weight to stay balanced with your other arm. Can you straighten it, please?"

Clint pressed a protein bar into Bucky's right hand as he complied with Shuri's request with his left. She had Bucky move the new arm in several different ways as she monitored it with her tablet and smiled happily after each test. 

"Let's check the sensitivity," Shuri said as she pulled a device out of her pocket. She pressed it again the arm and it let out a loud crack as Bucky felt something snap against one of the plates. 

"Pressure. I felt the snap, but no pain," Bucky confirmed and Shuri moved the device to several more places on his arm and hand with the same result. 

"Good, good," Shuri said afterward. "It will default to this setting after lengthy periods of inactivity or if the sensors pick up a large amount of feedback. Do you remember how to switch it?"

Bucky nodded, clenched his hand into a fist, and concentrated his thoughts as Shuri had instructed him. He felt a ripple in the plates and Shuri gave him a smile of approval. 

"Very well done. How does it feel now?"

Bucky could now feel the slight chill from the air conditioning and, when he checked, the softness of the blanket laying across his legs. He turned toward Clint, reached out to cup his jaw with his hand, and stroked along it gently with the pad of his thumb. Bucky grinned when he felt the tickle of barely-there stubble against his skin.

"It feels like my arm."

~^~

Clint still woke before Bucky each morning, but since the staff at the palace now took care of breakfast, he often sat against the headboard to read while waiting for Bucky to stir. As soon as Bucky began to wake, he would wrap both arms around Clint and snuggle close. Clint would then set whatever he was reading aside and they would lay wrapped up in each other for another few minutes. Unable to hold back the start of the day any longer, Clint would kiss the top of Bucky's head and slide out of bed to start coffee in their little kitchenette. Bucky always followed quickly after so that he could press up close against Clint's back and wrap both arms around him again.

"I'm not complaining, because I very much enjoy it," Clint said this morning as he leaned back into Bucky, "but is Bucky the octopus going to be a new habit?"

"Yes," Bucky answered and gave Clint a little squeeze with his arms. It had now been a little over a week since Shuri had given Bucky his new arm and he was taking full advantage of it. 

"Best use of having two arms," Bucky added once Clint had finished with the coffee and set the machine to brew.

Clint spun around without dislodging Bucky and wrapped his own arms around Bucky's shoulders. "Were you this much of a smooth talker back in the forties?"

"Don't think so," Bucky answered honestly. "Don't think I had anyone important enough to me back then to bother trying."

That earned him a lingering kiss from Clint, which Bucky unapologetically deepened as he snuck his left hand under Clint's shirt. The feel of Clint's skin against the metal fingers had quickly become one of Bucky's favorite sensations. Luckily, Clint didn't seem to mind based on how he arched into the touch.

"We're going to be late to breakfast again," Clint pointed out and then buried his fingers in Bucky's hair as he began to kiss down Clint's throat. Bucky's only response was to start walking them back toward the bed. 

Bucky and Clint had only made it on time for the start of breakfast twice in the past week, so they were immune to Okoye's pointed look and Shuri's knowing smirk by now. The other villagers, who had moved to the palace along with Bucky and Clint for added weapons training, didn't seem to notice either way.

The new routine they'd established since moving to the palace was to spend the morning hours training with the Wakandans and the afternoon doing their own, individual training. Clint and Bucky rotated their afternoon training between sparring, range time, or running the obstacle course that Shuri had gleefully designed for them.

The planned activity for this afternoon was sparring, so Bucky was a little surprised when Clint stepped closer to Bucky instead of walking to the other side of the mat. 

"Before we start, I need to ask your permission for something."

Bucky had to smile because Clint always made sure to ask, even though they knew that Clint would never do anything to hurt Bucky.

"Shoot."

Clint held up a small metal disc and what looked like a remote control. He handed the disc to Bucky. "That disc is able to emit a signal that will interfere with the impulses in your arm. It's temporary and won't damage it, but it will render your arm unuseable until the disc is deactivated."

"What?!" Bucky looked down at the disc and then up at Clint in shock, tempted to crush the disc before it could ever be activated. "Why?"

"Because I started carrying EMP arrowheads the day after Iron Man first made an appearance." Clint nodded toward Bucky's arm. "Shiny things attract attention and since you didn't choose the subtle version of the arm, we have to assume that it'll be a target. You need to train without it."

"We sparred without the arm back at the village."

Clint lifted the remote. "May I?"

Bucky reminded himself that Clint was, as always, only asking this for Bucky's benefit. He nodded and Clint pressed a button on the remote. There was a pull as the disc stuck itself to the surface of Bucky palm, then his whole arm jerked, and went limp. Bucky staggered under the weight and he had to put in a concerted effort to straighten back up.

"The good news," Clint said and pressed the remote into Bucky's right hand, "is that someone would need to be as smart a Shuri to disable your arm." He wrapped Bucky's fingers around the remote and stepped back. "It's your call."

Bucky glared because the arm was heavy and uncomfortable and it was annoying that Clint was always right, at least when it came to Buck's wellbeing. 

"Jerk," Bucky spat out, but without much heat because he loved this man a ridiculous amount. He also appreciated that Clint was at least trying to hold back his knowing smirk. 

Bucky put the remote in his pocket without disabling the disc and took a few steps back. He moved around on his own for a few minutes to get accustomed to the weight and how it impacted his center of gravity. When he deemed himself ready, Bucky moved to the edge of the sparring mat and beckoned to Clint.

"Let's do this."

If there was a part of Bucky that expected Clint to take it easy on him, it was proven wrong when Clint had him pinned to the mat in an embarrassingly short time. 

"Fuck," Bucky swore into the mat as he tapped Clint to release him. He scrambled to his feet and dropped back into a fighting stance. "Again."

By the end of the afternoon, they were evenly matched. Bucky was finally able to compensate for the dead weight of the arm, but Clint was a master at using his opponent's strengths and weaknesses against them. Ending up even with Clint counted as a win in Bucky's book. 

Bucky fished the remote out of his pocket and was relieved when feeling and control returned to his arm. He flexed his fingers a few times before he reached out to reel Clint in by the front of his shirt. He counted on Clint to understand that the kiss that followed was Bucky's way of saying thank you. 

"Still a jerk," Bucky muttered against Clint's lips, kissed Clint again, and pretended not to notice how Clint was grinning into the kiss. 

"We should get cleaned up," Clint said after the kiss ended. "Shuri asked us to come down to her lab before dinner."

"Maybe we should share a shower," Bucky suggested as they walked through the palace. "It'll save time."

"Nice try. But if we share a shower together, we won't make it to dinner at all, let alone Shuri's lab beforehand."

Bucky shrugged and conceded Clint's point, though he made a mental note to convince Clint into shower sex on a different day. With quick, separate showers, they made it down to Shuri's lab with plenty of time before dinner. 

"Did you need to take more readings on my arm?" Bucky asked when they arrived. 

"No," Shuri answered. "I actually wanted to tell Clint that we should be able to attempt the procedure as early as tomorrow."

"That's great," Clint said enthusiastically at the same time that Bucky asked, "What procedure?"

"Will it mess with my SHIELD ear implants?" Clint asked Shuri without either of them answering Bucky's question. 

"No," Shuri answered Clint. "I can program them not to attempt any repairs on your ears, but are you sure you don't want to see if the nanites can fully fix your hearing?"

"Not something I want to mess with right now. If we get a chance, you and Stark can roshambo later on who gets to upgrade them."

"What procedure?!" Bucky asked again, loudly enough for Clint and Shuri to shift their attention to him. 

"Sorry," the two said in unison. Clint looked apologetic and a little sheepish. 

"So remember how Shuri was able to repair the damage to that CIA agent's spine?" Clint asked and Bucky nodded—they'd now been told about the events surrounding T'Challa's coronation. "It turned out that the nanites also fixed a bunch of damage in his back from all his years as a pilot."

"What does that have to do with Clint?"

"The nanites recognized damage in the body that wasn't a direct result of direct injury and repaired it," Shuri explained. "It means that, with a little modification of their programming, they could repair damage typically seen as part of aging."

Bucky frowned because it didn't sound like she knew for sure how it would work. 

"I'm a good candidate for the procedure," Clint added, "because I haven't exactly been kind to my body over the years. I've got more damage to fix."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Bucky insisted. 

Clint smiled at him indulgently. "Thanks Buck, but remember how I had to skip training the other day because my joints ached so bad?"

"You just overexerted yourself."

"And an enemy is going to let me stop to take stretch breaks?" Clint countered. 

Bucky turned back to Shuri. "Is it dangerous?"

"The risk should be low, but all experimental procedures carry some danger."

Bucky's frown deepened as the word experimental sent his stomach churning. He spun back to Clint with a hard glare. 

"You've already decided to do this, haven't you?"

Clint's eyes widened in shock at the hard edge to Bucky's voice. "I… I didn't think you'd have a problem with it."

"Do what you want," Bucky spat. "Just don't expect me to stand around and watch you play guinea pig."

Bucky spun and left the lab at a near-run. His mind was whirling with bad memories that urged him to get out, to escape. He walked blindly through the palace until he finally emerged onto a balcony where he was able to take huge, gulping breaths. It took another few minutes for him to calm down and for the rational part of his brain to tell him that his reaction was unfair to both Shuri and Clint. Yet he couldn't make himself turn around to apologize because the idea of Clint being experimented on made bile rise in his throat and stole the breath from his lungs. 

After a few minutes of solace, Bucky heard the doors to the balcony swish open, but he kept his face turned resolutely toward the horizon.

"I'm not mad," he said, "just… I need time to deal with someone I love willingly being experimented on."

"You sound quite angry for someone who claims not to be mad."

Bucky spun around, surprised to see that it was Okoye that had come to find him. His mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. 

"Did something happen to Clint?!" he asked in concern and took a step forward until Okoye held up a hand.

"Clint is in your suite waiting for you to return. He also told me you needed time." Okoye turned to look at the setting sun. "Time," she sighed. "We always believe we have more time tomorrow or the next day. Then in the end, time is always something we wished we had more of."

"You think I’m wasting time?"

"No, only suggesting there may be better use of the time you need."

"What—?" Bucky started to ask and then stopped when Okoye’s earlier words sunk in. Clint understood that Bucky needed time to come to terms with the procedure, in the same way he'd insisted Bucky take the time to be sure about accepting his new arm. They had spent a week back at the village talking about how Bucky felt about the old arm and how to leave it in the past. The difference, as Okoye was pointing out, was that they had spent the time together. 

"You’re right," Bucky conceded. 

Okoye smirked. "I am often right."

"Thank you."

Okoye's smile softened and she gave Bucky a nod before giving the doors a pointed look. He gave her a quick smile in return and then walked inside to find Clint. When he reached the door to their suite, Bucky was startled by Clint almost running into him on his way out.

"Hey. There you are." Clint said and pushed a tablet toward Bucky. "Nat called and someone wants to talk to you."

Bucky took the tablet and found Steve looking back at him, sporting a new beard and a wide grin. 

"Bucky! Nice to see you awake," Steve gushed, but Bucky got distracted by Clint trying to walk past him.

"Wait," Bucky called out quickly and snatched Clint's arm. He looked down at the tablet for a second. "Hang on a sec, Steve." He moved the tablet down by his leg. "I don't want you to go," he told Clint. 

"You need to talk to Steve," Clint insisted.

"I will talk to Steve, but that doesn't mean you have to go. Please?"

"Um, okay."

Bucky used his hold on Clint's arm to tug him back inside their suite and toward the sofa. He sat them down side-by-side, transitioned his hold to Clint's hand, and then brought the tablet back up so that Steve could see them. He saw Steve's eyes flick between him and Clint inquisitively before Steve's smile widened.

"You look good, Buck."

"I feel good," Bucky responded and gave Clint's hand a squeeze. "Sorry we didn't tell you I was awake earlier. I was still wrapping my head around everything and didn't want to be a distraction."

"You would never be a distraction," Steve replied and there was a scoff in the background that Steve ignored. "But it looks like you were in good hands." 

"Yeah, I was." Bucky looked away from Steve's shit-eating grin and gave Clint a smile that made his cheeks pink in response. Bucky then let his smile morph into one of apology that Clint accepted with a small nod.

"Oh, and hey," Bucky said and moved his left arm in front of the tablet. "Look. Shuri made me a new arm."

Steve opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Sam shoving him lightly to the side so that he could get a look at the screen.

"Nice hardware! Lookin' good there, Barnes," Sam grinned.

"I like it," Bucky responded and then couldn't help adding, "Haven't tried to rip out any steering wheels with it yet. Maybe when you guys get back."

"Haha," Sam deadpanned. "That ain't never gonna be funny."

Bucky grinned back and could almost see Steve buzzing with happy energy that he and Sam were bantering at each other. 

Sam must have seen it too because he rolled his eyes at Steve and then turned to Clint. "You too, Barton. Wakanda looks like it's treating you well."

"Can't quite say the same. You look like shit, Wilson," Clint responded teasingly, but Sam did look a little scruffier than what Bucky remembered.

"Well, Mr. On-the-run here doesn't believe in hot showers and real beds." 

Steve shook his head at the old argument and Clint raised an eyebrow. "They had those on the Raft," he pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah." Sam waved his hand dismissively and then sobered. "Don't think I ever said it, but thanks for keeping us all sane in there." 

"I was the only one with prior experience behind bars. I'm sure you'll do better next time."

Steve wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders. "I don't plan on there being a next time."

"That mean you guys are staying out of trouble?" Bucky asked.

Both Steve and Sam nodded, but then had to shift as Natasha poked her head into the frame. 

" _I'm_ keeping them out of trouble," she interjected with a pointed look at the two men beside her. She swung her eyes back to Bucky and smiled. "Nice to see you, James."

"Likewise, Natalia," Bucky responded and watched her eyes flicker with surprise.

"I'll keep an eye on these two troublemakers, if you take that handful," Natasha added with a nod at Clint.

"Hey!" Clint, Steve, and Sam all protested.

Bucky laughed and nodded. "Deal."

"We're going to need to cut this short," Natasha advised. "Even the most secure call…"

"Can be traced if you give them enough time," Clint finished and the two took a moment to look at each other fondly. "You take care of yourself too, okay Nat?"

"Always."

"We'll call again," Steve promised. 

"Stay safe. Talk to you soon," Bucky said as Sam and Steve waved at the screen before it went black. 

"They'll be okay," Clint advised with a squeeze to Bucky's hand. "Nat's got it covered. They've also been in contact with Wanda."

"Isn't that a different kind of dangerous?"

"From what Nat tells me, Vision won't risk anything that means he can't see Wanda. Apparently, vibranium robots with mind stones can fall in love."

"There's a lot of that going around," Bucky commented, then leaned forward to give Clint a kiss. "Sorry I was a jerk earlier."

"It's okay."

"I don't think it is. I shouldn't have stormed off."

"Bucky," Clint said gently. "I may not like it, but I'm never gonna try and tell you how you should or shouldn't react to something. God knows, I'm far from rational a lot of the time, so it'd be pretty hypocritical for me to always expect it of you."

Bucky had to kiss Clint after that. "I don't know. I think you're pretty perfect."

"That's only because you're madly in love with me."

"I am that," Bucky nodded and this time, it was Clint who leaned in to kiss him. "So you really want to do this?"

"I'd like to, yes."

"Why?"

"Because I'm old and battered," Clint answered. "You see me every night after training. I have aches on top of my aches."

"But you never let it impact how you fight," Bucky countered. "You gripe about it at night, but you're right back out every day. Your aches haven't changed the fact that you're an extraordinary soldier." 

Clint paused for a minute to gather his thoughts. When he spoke, it was with a quiet honesty. "I _have_ changed, Buck. You just haven't known me long enough to see the difference. I've learned to fight smarter because I'm not as strong or as fast as I used to be."

"Fighting smarter makes you better, not worse."

"That won't matter against what's coming. Fighting smart only helps if you've got something intelligent to fight against." Clint gripped Bucky's hands tightly. "My nightmares never tell me how it all ends, but it has shown me variations where people I care about, people I _love_ , die. What follows me out of the dream is always the sense that I wasn't strong or fast enough. That I wasn't good enough. That I hadn't done everything I could to stop it."

"And you think the procedure will help?"

"I think that if there's a chance, I need to take it."

Bucky looked down at their joined hands and reminded himself that he'd promised to stand by Clint. He wouldn't go back on his promise over this. "Okay."

"It doesn't need to happen tomorrow," Clint pointed out and smiled when Bucky met his eyes. "And it won't happen until we talk about why you're so against it."

"The idea of you getting… of you being _experimented_ on…" Bucky shuddered and Clint wrapped his arms around him tightly. 

"Ah, crap. See, I'm far from perfect because I didn't think about that at all."

Bucky buried his face against Clint's neck and let the familiarity of it comfort him. 

"What did we agree on back at the village?" Clint asked after a little while. "About your new arm."

Bucky sat back so he could look at Clint's eyes because he could see where Clint was going with the question. 

"We agreed to trust that it wasn't Hydra," Bucky answered. "To put our faith in Shuri."

"And…?"

Bucky felt more of the fear and panic slip away. He knew Clint loved him. With that love came the confidence that Clint would never knowingly let harm come to Bucky. He just had to extend that confidence into believing that Clint would never put himself in harm's way if it would hurt Bucky. 

"To remember that we're not alone anymore."


	5. Catching Up to Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War

It was a rare rest day at the palace and Bucky had so far been successful in making sure they spent most of it in bed. It had been over a week since Clint had undergone Shuri's new procedure and Bucky was still getting used to the changes. Clint was more than happy to indulge Bucky's need to acclimate, which was why he was currently laid out next to Bucky in bed, naked and in a half-doze.

Bucky let his eyes trace the planes of Clint's face. He now looked, at Bucky's estimation, about fifteen to twenty years younger. His skin was smoother, less weathered, and the procedure had straightened his nose back to how it must have looked before the many times he'd broken it. What hadn't changed was the wealth of emotion in Clint's eyes when he looked at Bucky or the way Clint's smile encompassed his whole face, even if the laugh lines weren't quite as deep as they had been before.

Bucky's eyes wandered downward and continued to catalog the changes. Clint had always been lean and muscular, but now he was chiseled. Any softness that had existed, unavoidable with age, was now gone and it was difficult for Bucky not to appreciate all the toned muscle on display. Clint's endurance had lengthened and he was faster, stronger, and more agile, which made his already formidable fighting style unquestionably deadly. Clint hadn't been turned into a super soldier, because he hadn't needed to be, but the procedure had returned an extraordinary human being to his awe-inspiring prime. 

"Like restoring a beat up classic car," Clint had joked before the procedure. Shuri had been explaining everything one last time—mostly for Bucky's benefit—prior to filling the chamber with a liquid mixture that contained the nanites. The thing had looked like a cross between a cryo chamber and the bacta tank from Star Wars, neither of which had helped assuage Bucky's nerves at the time. 

Clint shifted next to him and brought Bucky's attention back to the present. With the sheet pooled around Clint's waist, Bucky could see the myriad of scars Clint had earned over the years still stark against his tanned skin. The scars, for a reason they never explained to Bucky, hadn't been changed by the procedure. Seeing the scars made Bucky guiltily grateful because, while he loved the reminders of Clint as they'd first touched, Bucky also knew that not all the scars had been gained in battle. One scar in particular always drew Bucky's eye and he couldn't help tracing his finger along it.

Clint's hand covered Bucky's and he looked up as Clint's eyes fluttered open. "I'm okay," Clint reminded him while flattening both their hands against his chest. 

Beneath their hands, beneath the scar, was an injury that had nearly killed Clint twice. The first had been when his brother's arrow had pierced through Clint's chest and barely nicked his heart—a few millimeters to the left and Clint wouldn't have survived. The second was when the nanites had attempted to fix the unknown injury and caused Clint's heart to seize during the procedure. Shuri and the doctors had quickly stabilized Clint, but Bucky still had difficulty shaking off the fear he'd experienced in that moment. 

"I'm okay," Clint repeated and Bucky shifted up to kiss him. He took comfort in the steady beat he felt beneath his hand and Clint's warmth as they slotted their bodies together.

They traded a few languid kisses before Clint leaned back against the pillows and pushed Bucky's hair out of his face. "Are we really spending all day in bed?" Clint asked.

"We had lunch," Bucky pointed out. He acknowledged that breakfast didn't count since they'd left their coffee and breakfast bars abandoned on the nightstands in favor slowly making love while the sun rose higher in the sky. Lunch had at least been in the kitchenette, where Bucky had stashed some sandwiches from the day before. 

"You're gonna give us a reputation," Clint teased. "You get that everyone thinks we're always naked when we're alone, right?"

"I feel zero remorse about that," Bucky grinned back. 

"We have incoming!" 

The light, relaxed atmosphere immediately dissolved at the sound of the alert from their bracelets. They quickly scrambled out of bed, got dressed, and ran down to Shuri's lab. By the time they arrived, Okoye was already there and T'Challa was right behind them.

"Is it Alien?" T'Challa asked. "Is it headed here?"

"It's coming from deep space, but it's headed to New York." Shuri paused and pulled down a part of her screen that was flashing. "Signature recognized as one first sighted at New Mexico in 2011."

"Thor!" Clint cried happily. "Do you have visual? Where's he headed?"

"Trajectory says somewhere in Greenwich Village. Patching into all available video links."

The video feed came up in time to show something very large and very green crash through a window.

"I don't remember Thor being green?" Bucky asked.

"Thor's not, but Hulk is," Clint answered. "Can you rewind that and pause it before he crashes?" Bucky thought that Clint was trying to get a better look at Hulk, but instead, he pointed at the window. "I've seen that symbol somewhere before."

"I'll run a visual search." Shuri tapped on the screen and three other, similar windows appeared. "Matches in Kathmandu, London, and Hong Kong."

Bucky and Clint both sucked in a breath. It couldn't be a coincidence. 

"Is that important?" Okoye prodded when neither of them spoke immediately.

"It may mean that the Time Stone is in New York," Bucky answered. 

Somehow, saying the thought out loud made it feel more real. They were out of time. The battle was almost here and Bucky wished he'd spent more time with the people he loved. He wished he'd asked Steve to come back sooner. He wished he'd let Shuri teach him more pop culture. He wished he'd kept Clint in his arms longer. He wished, above all else, that they had more time.

Bucky felt Clint's hand slip into his and he looked over to see the same emotion reflected in Clint's eyes. Bucky intertwined their fingers, grateful that he had Clint by his side for whatever time they did have.

"New arrivals," Shuri called out. "Looks like two ships. One breaking the atmosphere headed to New York and the other in orbit around… Scotland."

"Wanda," Clint gasped and took a step back. Bucky gripped Clint's hand tighter and Okoye reached out to stop him before he could go further. They knew that Clint would run all the way to Edinburgh if it meant protecting someone he loved. 

"Steve's got this one," Bucky reminded him. "They promised to stick close."

Clint only relaxed fractionally, but Bucky was quickly distracted as Shuri informed them that a fight had broken out in New York. They watched the chaos play out through scattered video feeds until Iron Man took off into the sky and disappeared from view. Bucky wrapped his arm around Clint's shoulders in silent support because, despite Bucky's issues with him, Stark had once been a good friend to Clint. 

"The ship is leaving our immediate area of space," Shuri told them softly, aware of the implications to Iron Man. "It's moving fast. There's… nothing on sensors returning to Earth."

"What do we do now?" Okoye asked.

"We wait and we prepare," T'Challa answered wisely and met Clint's eyes with a nod. "We know they will come to us."

~^~

Bucky watched the quinjet land with a mixed sense of relief and trepidation. The past day had been a grueling test of patience as they gathered Wakanda's forces to the palace, but the Avengers' arrival meant that the fight was really about to begin. He stood off to the side of the landing pad as T'Challa and Okoye greeted Steve and the others. It let him take stock of the team Steve had brought while they waited for T'Challa to walk them over. Steve hadn't told them much when he called, so Bucky wasn't expecting Col. Rhodes and Dr. Banner to step off the quinjet.

Steve, predictably, pulled Bucky into a hug as soon as he was within reach.

"How are you doin' Buck?" Steve asked. 

Bucky couldn't do much except smile and shake his head fondly at the question. "Pretty good for the end of the world."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Clint's voice said from slightly behind him and Bucky watched as the assembled Avengers got their first look at a newly restored Clint Barton. They had spoken to Steve and Natasha before the procedure, so they knew a little of what to expect. Of the others, only Rhodes looked surprised at Clint's appearance while Vision and Bruce seemed too distracted to notice. 

"Clint!" Wanda cried and pushed a clearly injured Vision toward Sam before she rushed forward into Clint's arms.

Clint wrapped his arms around Wanda and whispered what Bucky assumed were words of comfort and encouragement in her ear. When they broke their embrace, there were unshed tears in Wanda's eyes, but her back was straight with new resolve. Wanda then walked back to Vision's side and helped lead him inside to Shuri's lab.

The Avengers all gave varied greetings to both Bucky and Clint before they dispersed, until it was just Natasha left standing in front of Clint. 

"You look like when we first met," Natasha said with a small, enigmatic smile.

"So do you," Clint countered and reached out to tug on Natasha's now-blonde hair.

Natasha let out a sound between a laugh and a sob that had Bucky turning away as she stepped into Clint's open arms—the moment deserved some privacy.

"I've missed you," Natasha admitted after a few minutes of silence.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Clint answered, his own voice choked with unspoken emotion.

Bucky waited until he heard rustling and then turned to see Natasha take a step back away from Clint. "I'm going to go check on Vision."

Clint stepped easily into Bucky's supportive hug after Natasha had gone inside. "You okay?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah. It's good to see her again. What about you? I'm surprised Steve's not still out here hugging you."

"Guessing he has other things on his mind right now."

Bucky let Clint go, but kept an arm around his waist as Sam stepped up next to them.

"Man, this place looks amazing," Sam said and turned his head to look around. "Nicest place we've been in a while and I'm probably _still_ not gonna get to sleep in a real bed."

Bucky and Clint laughed, but their reprieve was interrupted by Shuri's voice coming out of their bracelets. "We have incoming. Right over the palace."

All heads turned upward and watched as something large appeared in the sky, impacted against the invisible dome, and disintegrated.

"Man, I love this place," Bucky said and received nods of agreement from Sam and Clint.

"More landing outside the dome," Shuri warned over the bracelets as Steve, T'Challa, Natasha, and Okoye walked back outside. Banner and Rhodes quickly joined them. 

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"Shuri has a plan to remove the stone from Vision, but it's going to take time. Wanda will destroy it as soon as she's done," Steve answered. "We need to give Shuri time."

Bucky looked out as more alien craft were landing outside the dome. "What if they get through before Shuri's done?"

Steve's mouth flattened into a grim line. "It won't come to that," he said with finality as T'Challa motioned them toward the troop transports waiting for them.

"I don't think I could do what Wanda may need to," Bucky told Clint as they sped toward the edge of the dome. 

"Bucky…" 

"I really don't," Bucky insisted and gripped Clint's hand tightly. "I spent seventy years feeling nothing, but even before that, I never felt anything like how I feel for you now. I think I'd let the universe crumble before I did anything to hurt you."

"I love you too, Buck" Clint said. "Let's just be glad it's not your resolve being tested."

"You don't believe me."

"No, I do. We're human, Buck. We all have our weaknesses."

Something in Clint's tone made Bucky pause. "If I asked that question now…"

"Let's be glad you're not." Clint's words sat heavy in the air between them and Bucky no longer had the words to respond. 

The transport stopped and Bucky tore his eyes away from Clint to look out at the two scary looking aliens on the other side of the dome. They got off the transport, but hung back as Steve, T'Challa, Okoye, Sam, and Natasha stepped forward to speak with the aliens. After a few minutes, the smaller one sneered and a flood of aliens began to spew from the alien ships. 

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Clint cursed as his nightmares took life in front of them. It took every ounce of Bucky's willpower not to grab Clint and run when he heard the fear in Clint's voice.

"Head back to the lines," Steve ordered and everyone scrambled back onto to the transports. 

Bucky grabbed onto Clint's hand the whole way back and tried to steady the tremor he felt in them. It wasn't until they were back amongst the Wakandans that he felt Clint take a shuddering breath and grip his hand back. Bucky saw Clint take a look around at the Wakandans—soldiers they'd trained with for months—and he seemed to draw strength from their stalwart presence. 

"Let's kick some alien ass," Clint said and gave Bucky the cocky smirk he'd fallen in love with. 

Bucky grinned back and nodded before he turned his attention to the alien horde throwing themselves at the dome shield.

"Steve!" Clint called out after the carnage had piled up at the first point the aliens had attempted to breach. "They're going around!"

"Shit," Bucky cursed. "There's no protection for the palace if they go around and get through."

"We need to keep their focus here," Steve said grimly and Bucky's stomach sank because he knew what that meant. 

As he'd feared, Steve called out the order to charge a few moments later and all hell broke loose. He gave Clint's hand one last squeeze before he released it and let training and instinct take over. Bucky charged into the throng, focused on keeping himself and Clint alive while taking out any alien that strayed into his field of vision. 

"Now _that_ ," Clint called out at one point. "is Thor."

It was a testament to the chaos of the battlefield that Bucky had barely noticed Thor's arrival amongst the rest of the cacophony. Unfortunately, the aliens regrouped quickly and they were soon overrun again. Bucky saw that the aliens were beginning to surround them at the same time that he looked down to see a raccoon blasting aliens beside him. He blinked, but the raccoon was still there and the aliens were closing in, so Bucky did the only thing he could think of. 

"Clint, down!" Bucky called out, grabbed the raccoon by the back of his vest, and tried not to think too hard about how the raccoon was wearing a vest in the first place. They both continued to fire and, once they'd cleared the aliens around them, Bucky placed the raccoon back down on the ground.

"How much for the gun?" the raccoon asked and Bucky wondered where he was in life that it didn't surprise him that the raccoon could speak. 

"Not for sale," he answered. 

"How much for the arm?" it countered and Bucky didn't have the energy to do more than glare his answer and walk away. 

Bucky really shouldn't have been surprised at Clint's reaction to the whole thing. 

"Did you just—?" Clint panted as he skidded to stop next to Bucky and skewered two aliens through the throat with an arrow. "Did you just spin a fucking raccoon with a blaster the size of your arm around in a circle of alien death?"

Bucky shrugged, a little embarrassed, because he hadn't stopped to think too much about the move, but had an idea what it must have looked like. He dared a glance away from the attacking aliens and toward Clint. As he'd expected, Clint was grinning like a loon. 

One of Thor's lightning blasts blew through the group of aliens in front of them and Clint took the moment of reprieve to sidle up to Bucky, bumping his shoulder until Bucky looked over. 

Clint gave Bucky a quick, intense kiss before pulling back with a laugh. "We're all gonna die and you're being adorable. God, I love you."

Bucky grabbed the back of Clint's neck to pull him in for another fierce kiss. "I love you too and we're not gonna fucking die," he countered vehemently. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clint's arrows take out three more aliens without Clint looking away from Bucky's eyes. 

"How much for the bow?" a voice next to them asked and Bucky was sorely tempted to start laughing hysterically. 

"We make it out of this alive and I'll _give_ you the bow," Clint responded with a laugh. 

"Vision needs backup!" Bruce suddenly yelled over the comms. 

"Hold here," Clint said to the raccoon. "We'll see you after. Good luck." 

Clint held out a fist and the raccoon, after a moment of hesitation, tapped it with his own. Then the raccoon looked up at Bucky, held out his fist, and waited until Bucky bumped it with his metal hand before he smirked. "I'm gonna get that arm."

Bucky shook his head as Clint laughed again and then they were running full tilt toward the tree line. Bucky saw a flash of red, that he assumed was Wanda, disappear behind the trees and put on a burst of speed that left Clint a few paces behind him. By the time he made it into the clearing, the Avengers were fighting a purple guy about the size of the Hulk. 

"Keep him distracted," Steve ordered.

Sam and Rhodes swooped down, but their bullets seemed to do nothing but annoy Big Purple. Bucky rushed forward as Big Purple made a sweeping motion with his arm that sent Sam and Rhodes careening in opposite directions. He watched Widow get thrown aside like a rag doll and Bucky pulled the trigger as he ran forward in the vain hope that even one would have an impact. 

Then suddenly it felt like Bucky had been hit by a brick wall that stole all the breath from his lungs and the unseen force launched him backwards off his feet. He saw four arrows fly past as he was flung into the air and time seemed to slow as he continued his path backward. Bucky turned his head and saw Clint beneath him, then his bow was suddenly ripped out of his hands and one of the arrows he'd fired returned to impale him through his stomach. 

"No! Cl—"

Bucky slammed into a tree and fell in a heap at its base. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and tried to push himself up, but found himself weaker than he'd been after Zola's experiments during the war. He pressed his face against the hard metal of his gun—amazed that he'd managed to keep hold of it—took a few deep breaths to gather what strength he had left, and forced his body to move. He needed to find Clint.

Bucky was able to get up on his hands and knees, then had to pause to keep the nausea at bay. He reminded himself that Clint was hurt and began a torturously slow crawl forward. There was a flash of light he saw out of the corner of his eye and then felt a gust of air that felt a lot like the percussive blast of an explosion. It took a few seconds for his rattled brain to work out what must have happened—the light had been tinged red and yellow—and his heart ached for what Wanda must have needed to do. He pushed himself to move faster and finally reached Clint just has he was sitting up with a hand pressed to where the arrow disappeared into his body. 

"Stay still!" Bucky cautioned as he moved close enough to help support Clint's weight. 

"Did you see that?" Clint asked. 

"Yeah. I assume the big purple guy is Thanos?"

Clint nodded. "Wanda and Vision…" Clint closed his eyes tightly for a second and Bucky knew him well enough to see that he was feeling Wanda's pain more than his own. "Did we win?"

"I don't—" Bucky started to answer, but stopped when there was another sudden movement of air that enveloped them.

The air was moving in the opposite direction from earlier and, this time, the light around them became tinged in yellow and green, instead of red. Bucky and Clint looked at each other in horror at what it could mean.

"He's reversing time. Shit! Help me up!" Clint ordered, but Bucky hesitated when Clint couldn't hold back a wince of pain.

"You're injured."

"Hurts, but not life threatening. Come on, help me up."

Bucky knew it was futile to argue and slung Clint's arm over his shoulders. He stood, having forgotten his own battered body, and nearly sent them toppling back to the ground.

"Whoa! Hey!" Clint exclaimed and shifted his weight to keep them upright. He let out a grunt of pain, then scowled at Bucky. "What the hell? Are _you_ okay?"

"Hurts, but not life threatening," Bucky responded.

Clint looked like he didn't know whether to laugh, growl, or cry. He eventually settled on shaking his head with a fond smile pulling at his lips as he prodded them forward. They managed to stay on their feet as they weaved their way between the trees and brush, miraculously finding Clint's bow along the way. As they reached the edge of the clearing where Thanos had been, there was a thunderous boom that could only mean that Thor had joined the party.

Bucky and Clint gripped their weapons tightly and stepped into the clearing. A quick survey of the scene showed both Steve and Wanda on the ground, but alive and stirring. Vision was lying further away than Wanda, not moving, and Bucky could hear rustling behind him that he hoped meant the others were also still alive. Thanos was standing in the middle of it all with a giant axe protruding from his chest, courtesy of Thor.

"Now do we win?" Bucky couldn't help but ask.

Clint surged forward suddenly and Bucky was barely able to keep a hold of him. "No! Thor, the stones!"

Bucky watched as Thanos closed his fist and then there was a blinding flash of light. When he could see again, Thanos was gone, the axe was on the ground, and Thor was looking down at it in confusion. Bucky was equally confused at what had happened.

"Oh God," Clint said in quiet horror and Bucky looked over to see Clint's bow fall to the ground as his hand began to dissolve into ash.

"Clint?!" Bucky asked in a voice that matched Clint's horror when he too felt an odd sensation creep in from his extremities. 

His eyes met Clint's and Bucky watched as the emotion in them moved from fear to acceptance. He tried to hold onto Clint tighter, but his hand passed into nothing and Bucky could no longer feel where they were touching. He wouldn't let himself look away from Clint. 

"Bucky," Clint whispered and, through the roar of nothingness crawling into his ears, all Bucky heard was love. Bucky closed his eyes, dipped his head, and pressed his lips to Clint's. 

Silence descended as if everything in the universe had stopped. In the clearing, the void was broken only by the sound of wood falling against metal as an arrow and a gun fell into the ashes, together.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
